


Awake at night

by birbteef



Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, M/M, Panic Attacks, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, breakdown is dead :(, wildbreak is a baby
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-17
Updated: 2018-01-17
Packaged: 2019-03-05 22:39:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,440
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13397760
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/birbteef/pseuds/birbteef
Summary: Knock Out deals with some panic following his admittance to the Autobots.





	Awake at night

**Author's Note:**

> I have been very very stressed recently wrt money issues and DMV nonsense so I wrote some angst. Knock Out deserves something good but he's not gonna get it today.

Knock Out woke with a jolt of fear running through his spark. He sat upright in his berth, taking in short fast vents of the surrounding cold air. The habsuite was empty, and he kept telling himself he was safe. There was nothing coming for him, the ship was not a collapsing building, Breakdown wasn’t in danger because he wasn’t there any more. The last one was the worst one to tell himself. How ironic, that he didn’t have to worry about him being hurt because he was too busy being dead. 

Little eyes to his side onlined suddenly with a small whimper. He didn’t need that right now. He didn’t need to be reminded of mistakes that were keeping him on the verge of his panic attack. He pulled his son close to his chest as he laid back down, letting the small sparkling nestle in close and hopefully go back to sleep. 

Knock Out’s intakes finally started to steady. Draw in, don’t think about it, expel.

He wouldn’t be going back to sleep tonight. Not likely at any rate. He hadn’t been having nightmares like this until he joined the Autobots. Everything he’d done under the rule of Decepticons was likely so repressed and stuffed down he hadn’t had a chance to suffer the effects of his trauma. But now that things were okay? He was starting to lose it.

Wildbreak started to shiver and Knock Out noticed it was rather cold. The weather must have been changing. He didn’t remember hearing anything about that but he also knew he hadn’t looked into it. He wrapped his berth sheet closer around the sparkling and tucked him up near his spark. He knew Wildbreak liked the sound of his spark pulse, even if it was a little faster than normal from the scare. 

He was supposed to start working on the recovery efforts soon. They expected him to be out there with the rest of them, proving to them that he really was an Autobot now. They’d given him time off to have his son, but the expectation was looming. 

How could he be able to perform a surgery if the sight of an old enemy sent him into a panic? How could he save lives if he was barely able to function half the time? How could he be expected to do what they wanted if he couldn’t even keep his fear in check in his own home? 

He worried his dentae into his lower lip and focused on the little EM field buzzing into him. Wildbreak loved him so much and he didn’t even feel like he’d done anything to actually deserve it besides feed him sometimes and make sure he didn’t freeze. He supposed that’s all parenting was, really. 

He had been terrified the Autobots would ask him questions. Why wasn’t he bonded? Why hadn’t he known he was carrying? Why hadn’t he prepared to have this kid? Why wasn’t he more responsible? Why?

No one asked him a single thing except when would he be back to work. No one had stopped by his habsuite. Only one comm had gone through and it was a paystub for his PTO. 

His venting was finally starting to settle down. The shadows in his room were no longer dangerous. He pressed a kiss to his son’s head. 

How long would this keep up? He knew it was ridiculous. To have the fear of Megatron breathing down his neck or see Starscream’s treacherous claws when he was finally in the position that neither of those things were a danger to him any more. He had laughed at the danger when it was real. Now that it was just a memory of an old life he couldn’t shake the fear that should have haunted him all along.

He knew he should talk to someone about it. Staying in his room and pretending he was fine was clearly not helping. Who would help him though? He laughed silently at the idea, sitting down with some neutral or Autobot psychiatrist and have to explain he clearly has PTSD from serving under his faction that he believed in. He felt pathetic at the mere idea of it. 

He could be afraid of Starscream in his own time. In the real world he had to keep up his appearance. He was Knock Out, former CMO of the Decepticons. He had to be Sassy and Beautiful and have a Perfect Remark for every single little insult flung his way. It was exhausting. 

But, he could do it. He knew he could do it because he had been doing it. He knew flashes in the corner of his vision were obviously not Megatron. He knew the click of heels from the femme down the hall were not Starscream. He knew the false sound of a door shutting was not Breakdown. He knew these things and he could accept them. Slowly. 

Wildbreak opened his eyes again, clearly not falling back asleep. Knock Out was glad at least he wasn’t crying. They could stay up together, that was fine. He yawned and sent out a series of small beeps to query Knock Out’s status. Why was he awake?

Knock Out kissed his little head and pet a hand down his back. That wasn’t something Wildbreak should have to worry about. Just because he was off his rocker didn’t mean Wildbreak should necessarily know about it. As long as he could keep it from affecting his son he would. Except he supposed the whole reason they were awake right now was because of him. That was pretty affecting wasn’t it?

He should talk to someone. Maybe, just maybe he didn’t need to talk to a professional though? He sat up in bed and tucked Wildbreak into the crook of his arm, making a silly face at his baby when he started to fuss to keep him happy.  
He needed a friend. He needed some kind of confidant that wasn’t a literal infant. Breakdown had been that, and Starscream...sort of was afterword. Sort of. Knock Out dreaded to know the information the seeker had that he could use against him. Starscream had used his position of power against him repeatedly in the exact same way that Megatron had done to him. Knock Out had nightmares about those claws raking against his chest for slight infractions and shuddered to think that Starscream was still out there, with all the knowledge he’d always had. 

He shook his head, that was ridiculous. What did he actually know? He’d never told Starscream anything worthwhile. The big secret he had, that he was coupling with his “technical subordinate”, was already out of the bag. He hadn’t technically been allowed to do anything with Breakdown but that hadn’t stopped them. 

He often wondered, even while Breakdown had been alive, what they would have been if it wasn’t for the stupid war. They could have been bonded in a big house with a big stupid lawn and shitty neighbors that hate them for some reason and their life could have been perfect. Or they could have had a fling and gone their separate ways. Knock Out found himself longing for the latter option. How much pain would he have been spared had he never known him? Some of the best parts of his rememberable adult life were with Breakdown and to just lose him, without condolences or remorse from any living party, left him empty in a way that was hard to wrap his head around.

Because he hadn’t been sad when it happened. He’d been shocked and angry for a little bit, but mostly he was just empty. He stayed that way until Wildbreak came and he was forced to feel something. Sometimes he almost missed  
being empty and numb more than he missed Breakdown. Ridiculous. All of this was ridiculous.

He brought his face to Wildbreak’s stomach and blew a small raspberry, smiling at the delighted squeal he made. At least he had this. The one good thing going for him at the moment and he loved him so dearly. 

He laid back down slowly, letting the babe sit on his chest and gurgle some nonsense. Maybe he’d go out tomorrow. Maybe the park or something. It wouldn’t make him less afraid but just maybe he’d feel better. Possibly he’d meet someone and they could have a chat. He couldn’t remember a time in his life when he had trouble talking to people. So he didn’t know anyone, big deal. He could make new friends. He’d done it before he could do it again.


End file.
